


Just Skate In Here and Steal My Heart Why Don't Ya?

by SCphantom



Category: Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: (Rip that head canon out of my cold dead hands), Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Car Accidents, I tried to be sad I don't think it worked let's see, M/M, Modern Era, Rollerblades & Rollerskates, Spot has freakles, all the newsies are kinda there, little sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-18
Updated: 2018-03-18
Packaged: 2019-04-04 01:01:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14008737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SCphantom/pseuds/SCphantom
Summary: Race didn't plan on being totally enamored with the new boy who walked into the Manhattan roller rink. He defiantly didn't plan on befriending him, and defiantly didn't plan on developing feelings. One thing is for sure, he absolutely didn't plan on getting in a car accident with the boy.Life sometimes just doesn't work out the way you planed though





	Just Skate In Here and Steal My Heart Why Don't Ya?

There was something absolutely crazy about the roller rink.

At least, that’s what Race thought. The mediocre music that poured out of beat up speakers was great, the fake overpriced food at the snack cart, and of course, the rink floor with more gaps in it than a four year old’s teeth falling out. Yeah, the Printing Press Roller Rink in Manhattan was probably one of the most disgusting places in the area, which is saying a lot because it was Manhattan. Race loved the place though, and he loved going there after school with his friends everyday. They had each managed to scrape enough change for a ten dollar year round pass, and dug around enough in their parent’s attics for an old pair of inline or regular skates. As a result, they would stampede from their moldy Manhattan High School to the roller rink after school. It was always a fun time, no matter if they just leisurely skated around, helped younger kids learn, or race around.

Race’s favorite thing was, of course, racing around the rink. Race was one of the few kids who was brave enough to learn how to inline skate. Partially because inline skates were the only Race could find, partially because inline skates were so much faster than regular skates. Race loved the feeling of flying around the rink at top speed, and creaming anyone who tried to race against him. 

Today though, didn’t seem to be a racing day. While the rink was pretty empty, everyone was preoccupied with something else. Katherine, who didn’t know how to skate, and Crutchie, who couldn’t skate due to his leg, were playing an intense game of air hockey. Some other guys tried to do homework but were getting caught up with the air hockey game. Jack was pulling a scared looking Davey around the rink, attempting to teach the new friend how to skate with little avail. The while, Specs and Romeo were teaching Les how to skate, which was seeming to go better than his brother learning how to skate. Leaving Race to leisurely push himself around the rink.

Race zipped around the rink, shoving his hands into his sweater pockets. He hummed the lame 90s pop song as he caught up to Jack and Davey. Jack looked like he was in more pain than Davey, as Davey was holding on to Jack’s arm with an amazing force.

“You’re looking great Davey.” Jack said meekly, “You might just be ready to let go of my arm.”

“No, no, no, nonono… If I let go of your arm I will most certainly fall!” Davey cried.

“Come on Davey, your kid brother is doing better than you.” Race laughed from behind Davey.

“That’s, not a fair comparison, Les is more physically active than me.” Davey said indignantly.

“Yeah, I can tell.” Race teased.

Jack went back to coaxing Davey to lesen the hold on his arm. Race immediately became bored of the two’s back and forth, so he moved along. He moved over to Les’s skating lesson, and Les was indead doing infinitely better than his brother.

“You’re doing great there kid.” Race encouraged, ruffling Les’s hair a little.

The head scratch threw off Les’s balance a little, but he quickly recovered and shot a thousand kilowatt smile at Race, “thanks Race!”

“Hey, Hey! Leave the student alone, he’s still got a long way to go.” Specs scolded, shoeing Race on his way.

“Gentleman, gentlemen, I’m crushed!” Race skate backwards, with a dramatic hand to his heart. “Who, may I ask taught you children to skate.”

“The guy who taught me to skate would let go of my hand when I started to fall,” Romeo deadpanned, “Maybe you ain’t the best example.”

Race held up his hands in surrender, “I got it, I got it.”

Race scooted away, humming along to the next song. Today was going just great, Race couldn’t think of how anything could ruin this day.

The ding of the bells on the front door made Race’s head snap up from the ground. Quickly, Race scanned the rink doing a quick headcount. All of the guys were here, so there was no possible person that could be walking through that door at 3:15 in the afternoon on a Wednesday. Yet, when Race looked up, his line of sight immediately saw another high school student. A male high school student, who Race would adamantly deny was extremely handsome. His dark hair was cropped short against his head, and messily tucked under a ratty grey cap. His face was strong and aguilar, and his dark eyes carefully scanned the rink.

Race must have been staring for a while because before he knew it his abdomen came into contact with the wall of the rink. If Race had not been skating since he was nine, he would have fallen straight onto his ass. Luckily, he was able to quickly regain his balance. His sharp blue eyes flew up to the boy again, to make sure he was still there. He was. But this time the boy was staring straight back at him. His eyes were filled with the barbed question, “what are you looking at?” Race’s legs moved into double time; he fervently skated away from the wall and over to Jack.

“Jack! Who’s that guy?” Race rapidly spat out.

Jack looked away from Davey and gave Race a look over with censored eyes, “Race, don’t tell me your winded already.”

“W-wha- What are you talking about?” Race faltered.

“You look red as a tomato, what’d ya do? Skate around the entire city of New York?”

Race gripped the wall and let a hand fly to his face. His face was indeed burning up, he must be very red right now. Which was embarrassing, but that only made Race blush harder. 

“No, no! That guy who just walked in, who is he?” Race asked even more urgently. He needed to figure out who this guy was so he could either kick him out of the fella’s hang out, or get his number. Maybe not in that order.

Jack turned around and studied the boy, who was looking over the admissions counter for someone to take his money. Of course, since it was a Wednesday, the owner knew that the only guys there were Jack and his crew, so he was most likely in the office taking a nap.

“Ehhh, I don’t know him personally. But I do know that he goes to school in… gosh… um…” Jack trailed off, snapping his fingers to try to get the memory to come back.

“Brooklyn.” Davey offered. Davey was only half paying attention to the conversation, as the other half was directed towards him not letting his legs give out from under him.

“Yeah! That’s right Brooklyn. He’s from Brooklyn.” Jack smiled at Race before turning his attention back to Davey.

Race sighed, “his name Jackie. What’s the guys name?”

“You ask me like I know the guy. I saw him twice, from afar both occasions.” Jack looked up at Race, who had pleading puppy eyes, “Alright, alright. I don’t remember his real name, but his friends called him a nickname, something related to a dog. Like Patch or somethin.”

Davey huffed and glared at both boys, “Spot! His name was Spot! Now will you please help me I am going to eat rubber in a minute.”

Jack chuckled, “So needy…”

Jack’s full attention was diverted back to Davey, Race long forgotten by the two. Race’s mind was only echoing Spot. Carefully, he turned slightly to look at the boy, Spot. He was still awkwardly standing at the counter, his gaze shifting to the air hockey match that was still happening. Shakily, Race glided over to the rink exit to talk to Spot. He took the small window of time between the rink and front counter to calm down and revert back to his normal demeanor. He confidently rode up to the admission and leaned on the counter. 

“You ain’t gonna be paying anyone anytime soon there.” Race opened with. He only cowered a little when the boy’s rock solid attention turned to glare upon him. 

“Oh yeah, and what would you recommend I do pretty boy?” Spot casually shot back. 

Suddenly, all bets on Race’s confident demeanor were off at the ‘pretty boy’. He may have blushed, but just a little.

“We- well, if you insist on being a Boy Scout about it, just leave the five on the counter and the guy will pick it up later.” Race winked, “But if you are willin’ to take an opportunity of a free skate, I won’t tattle on you.”

Spot’s glare faltered for a quick second and melted into a half smile. But, only for a half second. Race saw it though, and it was enough to make him grin. The glare was back in full force though, and Spot dug out his five and placed it on the counter.

“Ah, I see you is a Boy Scout.” Race laughed good naturedly.

“And I see you is quite a pain.” Spot bit back. He casually walked to the nearest bench to lace up his skates. Inline, much to Race’s personal delight.

But, Race couldn’t lie, that comment was a little disappointing. Race knew he was a pain sometimes, but he normally was good at hiding it for a while. He guessed it was just this boy, peeling back all the layers of Race all at once. It was annoying, but Race liked it at the same time. 

Regaining his stature yet again, so Race gilded after Spot.“Only on Wednesdays, and Fridays. You gotta watch out for me those days.” Race smiled.

Spot laughed a little, but quickly covered it up as a cough. Race knew though, he would befriend this guy at some point. 

“I tell ya what,” Race started, “I’ve been skating here for years, you say the word and I’ll give you the grand tour of the Manhattan Skating Rink.”

Spot stared at him in disbelief, “You really need a tour of this place?”

Race shrugged, “Do you want to trip on every crack of that rink floor?”

There was a short pause, Race was almost afraid that he was going to say no.

“Yeah sure, whatever. Just a quick one though.” Spot sighed.

Spoiler alert, it was not short.

In fact, Spot and Race were the last ones in the rink. They skated long into the night, out skating every boy in Jack’s crew. One by one, boys said farewell and left for home. Race and Spot, however, skated around the floor for hours and hours. They talked for hours and hours as well, about anything really. The weather, their schools, their friends. It was enthralling to know so much about Spot all at once. The night couldn’t have been better, the conversations were filled with playful banter and fun anecdotes.

“So, I have to ask, why Spot?” Race asked at one point.

Spot looked up at Race, “What’d ya mean?”

“Your name, you said it was Spot, why?” Race classified.

“I could ask you the same thing  _ Racetrack _ .” Spot smiled.

Race laughed before skating around Spot a bit, “Well, that’s easy. It’s not my real name, it’s just a nickname the fellas gave me because I enjoy racing others around the rink. Easy.”

Spot’s smile faltered before he looked at the ground, “yeah, easy.”

Race immediately sensed Spot’s uneasiness, “hey, you don’t gotta tell me if you don’t wanna.” He paused skating and guesstures around to the empty rink, “but, if it makes you feel better, it is nine o’clock and we are the only ones here.”

Spot sighed, “alright, alright. I just, it’s kinda embarrassing.”

“Believe me Spotty, I’ve probably out done you on the embarrassing scale.” 

Spot hummed a little, mulling over his options. 

“Okay, just promise not to laugh.” Spot said cautiously.

“I know better than to laugh at you; you’ll kick my ass.” Race said to try and lighten the mood.

Spot sighed heavily and leaned against the wall sightly. Once he started to move, he broke eye contact with Race and stared at the floor. Hesitantly, he removed his hat. Immediately, Race saw that his forehead was covered in freckles. Spot then unzipped his hoodie, and shrugged it off. His shoulders were also totally encased in little spots. Silence loomed over the two. Race made the first move, he slowly moved his hand to Spot’s nose and rubbed a little bit. Not to Race’s surprise, when he pulled his hand away, there were spots on Spot’s nose and makeup on Race’s hand. The rink was unearthly quiet, only the humm of the air conditioner filled the empty rink. For the first time since Spot showed his spots, the two made eye contact. Race immediately flinched away from Spot’s hard gaze.

“Well, are you gonna stand there gawking or say somethin?” Spot bit out.

Race couldn’t contain it anymore. He let out a noise that was something between and excited squeak and a surprised gasp.

“Spot, are those freckles all over your body?” Race asked breathless.

Spot huffed indignantly, putting his hoodie back on, “Yeah, pretty much. So, now ya know why I’m called Spot.

“I just,” Race breathed, “god, these are just so cute.”

Spot blushed like crazy, “Y-you said you weren’t gonna make fun a me!”

“Okay, first, you said no laughin, you said nothin about teasing. Second, I ain’t teasin ya, I swear. You are so sensitive, how you manage to fool anyone that your tough is beyond me.”

Spot snickered a little, “I am tough can’t ya tell?”

“Course I can,” Race laughed along with Spot, “but, Spot, why do you hide them? They’re really,” Race was going to say ‘incredibly beautiful’ but decided to say “amazing” instead.

“There was these guys that I knew back in middle school. They used to just do the standard bullying, the teasing, the laughing, and the occasional punch or two. They were originally just focused on the freckles but they moved on to just hating me in general. I could take it but, it kinda got to me after a while. So when I went to high school without them, I just covered them up. My sister got kinda mad at me, said I was giving in to them. I just couldn’t take them constantly teasing me, so I just ignored her. But, I think she’s right.” Spot wiped away a few stray tears before skating off the rink, “I should probably get going, it is late.”

Race blinked a few times before chasing after him, “Hey! Hey! Spot wait!”

Spot turned around to face him. Race took in all of Spot again, the sharp face and dark eyes complemented the various freckles scattered about this face.

Race breathed in a bit, “thanks for telling me. It took a lot of guts on your part.”

“Yeah, it was rough.” Spot’s voice was a little shaky, but he managed to add on a quick, “Just don’t go blabin around to all your Manhattan friends.” 

Race chortled, “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Spot nodded with a smile before he started to undo his laces. Race plopped down on the bench next to Spot and undid his laces. The two sat in a comfortable silence untying their laces. Eventually, Race was able to slip into regular shoes and parade over to the snack booth. He picked up a napkin and a pen before shakily writing his number on the thin sheet of paper. Race then hopped back to the bench where Spot was watching him intently.

“I figure since you opened up to me and shared your life story,” Race said giving him the snack napkin, “I figure we can talk a little bit more.”

A ghost of a smile flickered across Spot’s lips as he stared at the number, “yeah, I think we should.”

Race beamed brighter than the sun, “awesome! I’ll see you tomorrow, right? For more skating?”

“Sure, but maybe tomorrow we don’t stay here past closing time.”

* * *

 

So days rolled by with the two going to the Manhattan roller rink after school every day. Each day, they would skate around with the other guys, and every day they would talk to each other until way after closing. Spot even stopped wearing his sister’s foundation, showing off his freckles. That would be much to Race’s delight. One day Race decided to ask Spot where he learned to skate.

“Oh, my pa taught me how to skate over in Brooklyn.” Was Spot’s simple response.

Race gasped at the sudden realization, “Wait, is there a rink over in Brooklyn?”

Spot swore silently, “Uh, yeah there is one over by the high school…”

“And you never invited me to go?” Race asked offended.

Spot sighed and leaned against the wall, “no Race. My friends over in Brooklyn-”

“You got other friends in Brooklyn???” Race grabbed Spot by the shoulder and shook him roughly, nearly causing both to fall on their asses, “Spot, all this time I thought I was your only friend! The only person who could stand your dry humor and poor attitude.”

Spot swatted his hands away, “Hey hey, I got other friends besides you. And my humor is not dry!”

Spot pulled Race off the rink and sat them down at a bench. He sighed and pinched his dotted nose. He looked around for anyone else before he started to talk more. 

“Listen, the guys in Brooklyn, they ain’t as welcoming to new guys like Manhattan is. Plus, I came to this rink to get away from the Brooklyn rink.” Spot said.

“That’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you, why do you come over here everyday?” Race asked.

Spot rubbed the back of his neck nervously, “Well, I came over here the first time cause my sister wanted me and my buddies gone for her birthday party. Didn’t want he big brother embarrassing her.” Spot chuckled nervously, “I guess I kept coming back cause I liked the company.”

Race flushed as red as Spot’s striped shirt. The little comment may have seemed insignificant, but now that Race thought about it, that was the first time Spot admitted that he enjoyed spending time with Race.

“Hey, wait! I got an idea!” Race cried happily, “You just got your driver’s licence right?”

Spot nodded slowly, “I did, what’s your point?”

“How bout on Friday after school we go over to the Brooklyn together?” Race suggested. Spot opened his mouth to protest, but Race was faster, “the drive would be shorter than the 30 minute skate over to Brooklyn. And, you would have the company you so desire and I get to meet your other friends! Win-win-win!”

Spot hummed a little as he contemplated the proposal. “Yeah, alright, I’ll pick you up after school on Friday.”

* * *

 

Race was over the moon that Spot agreed. The next day at school he told all of his friends with unparalleled excitement, the responses he got were pretty much the same.

“You are getting in a car with Spot Collon?” Jojo blanched.

Surprised gasps filled the lunch table, along with plenty of wolf whistles and catcalls.

“Alright! Alright! Fellas knock it off you dogs don’t think about it too much!” Race called out, blushing madly.

“Now now, it's nothing to be ashamed of. Spot is hot.” Specs called out, earning more whistles and calls.

Crutchie chuckled next to Race and rubbed his back, “don’t let em get to you. It’s nice that your finally going on a date with Spot.”

“It ain’t a date!” Race yelled, burying his head in his arms.

“Oh, well, you had me fooled.’ Crutchie smiled and retracted his hand.

“When’s the date anyway?” Romeo asked from across the table.

“This Friday.” Race said without hesitation. The response earned loud cheers erupting from the table. Race realised his mistake and helplessly tried to backtrack, “No! No! Wait wait! That’s not what I meant you scandals!”

Jack, who was laughing along with the other boys previously, suddenly turned a bit more serious. Jack calmly hushed the other boys and turned to Race.

“Seriously Race, I’m glad that you got the guy, but he’s right. Brooklyn kids are tough, and they don’t take too kindly to new fellas.” Jack stared at Race anxiously, something Race rarely saw, “just promise to be careful ya dolt.”

“Yeah, sure Jack. I’ll be careful.” Race said sincerely. He did, after all, know better than to irritate ‘mom’ Jack.

“Course he’ll be safe! He’s got his boyfriend looking after him!” Albert called from the end of the table. The guys delved into giggles again.

“Alright you twit! You asked for it!” Race called over before charging at the boys, smiling nonetheless.

Friday would not come soon enough for Race. All week his classes just drug on and on. When Race did see Spot, they were strictly working on homework. It seemed that both of their schools piled on the work to keep the two preoccupied. Race made sure to mention to Spot every day about how excited he was for Friday. It always earned a playful shove from Spot before he claimed he was ‘working up over nothing’ and that ‘it was probably just going to be a normal skate like they always do’. It did not quell Race’s spirits though, he was still over the moon that he was going on a kind-of-sort-of date with Spot. Just the thought made Race giggle happily. Race,  _ giggle _ . Spot was doing something to Race and if Race was being honest, he kind of liked it. Around Thursday sometime though, after about three months of talking with Spot, Race was ready to admit he might have a teeny thing for Spot.

Just a small thing though, and the only person he told was Jack. Jack, ever so helpful, said:

“Yeah, we all kinda know. You ain’t that good at hiding it. Just tell Spot how ya feel, you might just get a real boyfriend.”

Race, was not amused by Jack’s answer, as he was just wanting the feelings to either go away or swallow him whole. That latter option, was seeming more and more likely. Race, however needed to get his life together because Friday finally rolled around. The final bell rang, and Race sprinted out of his last class. He sprinted to his locker and ripped his skates out. He trotted out of the school, and waved to his friends (who gave him supportive thumbs-ups and suggestive wolf whistles). Happily he walked into the student pick up zone and immediately noticed Spot’s little car. A dated 1998 honda odyssey, Spot’s dad’s old car that Spot occasionally gets to drive. Happily, Race skipped into the passenger seat.

“Hey there Spotty, how’s it going?” Race asked as he slipped on the seatbelt.

Spot grinned and nudged him playfully as he put the car in drive, “don’t call me that you punk.”

“Gah! I’m a punk now eh?” Race laughed easily. Laughing always came easy to Race when he was with Spot.

“You has always been a punk, now shut up while I drive.” Spot pulled away from the curb and started over towards the Brooklyn Bridge. 

Race and Spot sat in the car in a comfortable silence. Race just stared at Spot. The way his dark short hair glimmered in the sunlight, and the way his eyes would carefully calculate the road in front of him. Race couldn’t help but sigh contently as his eyes flickered across Spot’s freckled angled face.  Spot took a left turn and stopped at a crosswalk where two girls waved and crossed. Race waved back at the two girls.

“You know them?” Spot asked, curiously.

Race shrugged, “not personally, but I’ve had them in my classes. They’re both pretty nice, and the fellas and I all think they’re dating.”

Spot laughed, “you guys are like the cupids of campus aren’t you? First those guys in your science class, those two in Jack’s history class, those guys in Spec’s english class, those two that you guys always see at lunch-”

“Alright, alright I see your point.” Race snorted.

As the girls walked across the street, Race noticed a car coming towards them. It looked normal at first, but Race noticed how badly it was swerving into the other lane. And, as it approaches towards them, Race noticed it was showing no signs of slowing down. The faster it approached the intersection, the more nervous Race got.

“Uh, Spot?” Race breathed, voice laced with fear.

“Y-yeah, I see him.” Spot looked around for any incoming cars before moving to throw the car in reverse.

Race rolled down the window, “Guys! Guys! Get out of the street! Quick!”

One one the girls, a blonde, looked around to see what was happening. Race saw her eyes get wide. And the last thing Race continuously saw, was the blonde pushing the other girl, the brunet, out of the way. After that, all he saw was black.

* * *

 

Race’s vision was very blurry when he opened his eyes. His eyes slowly adjusted to the bright light as Race tried to remember what happened. Ah, right, the car that he and Spot was in was hit.

_ Oh my god Spot, _ Race’s mind kicked into high gear as he tried to turn his body to look at the driver’s side. Spot sat in the driver seat, still unconscious. His knuckles were still tightly gripped around the steering wheel. There was glass sprinkled in his hair, and God, there was so much blood. It was dripping down his closed eyes and over his freckles and obscuring the spots around his hands. Race’s heart leaped into his throat as he tried to reach out to him. As he reached out his left arm he felt searing pain. Race hissed and shifted to reach out his right hand.

“Spo’... Spo’ w-wake ‘p.” Race slurred. When Spot didn’t respond, Race’s heart quickened up even more. He used his right arm and helplessly shook Spot’s unconscious form, “Spo’ c'mon… w-wake ‘p”

A sharp voice in the back of Race’s mind hissed at him  _ don’t shake him, you’ll make it worse. _ The voice kind of sounded like Davey, so Race obeyed and dropped his arm. He helplessly turned around to see what else was happening. 

Race’s eyes squinted as he turned towards the shattered front glass. The sight was absolutely appalling. The other car, which was about the same size of Spot’s car, collided into Spot’s car. The passenger side was slammed into Spot’s side of their car. The passenger of the other diver’s car obviously wasn’t wearing his seatbelt, he was thrown out of the front window. His body laid limp on the hood of the car, blood was pooling around his head and body. Race nearly gagged before letting his eyes wander towards the driver side of the other car. The door was opened up, and the driver seat was empty. 

As if on cue, a teenager about Race’s and Spot’s age stumbled next to Race’s door, “hey, hey, man, are you okay man?” He slurred, Race practically drank up the alcohol he smelt on his breath.

“W-what di’ you do?” Race slurred back. His mind was still cloudy, but he could tell that his lip was swollen.

The boy started to respond, but he was angrily pushed away from his door.

“Get away from him!” A female voice yelled, she was in absolute hysterics. She had a cell phone in her hand, and Race prayed she called the police or fire department or someone. “I-I know you, you were in my freshman bio class, you- you’re Tony or something- right?”

“Yeah I… Ton’” He helplessly whimpered. Her face started to clear up and Race identified her as the other girl who was walking across the street, the brunette. Suddenly he put two and two together. “Other, gi’l wh-where is she?”

That didn’t seem to make the situation better. When Race asked, the brunette broke into more hysterics. Race strained to look over the hood of the car. He saw the blonde, horribly mangled and bloody, laying face down in the crossing walk. Race turned towards the brunette, who was still in absolute hysterics, he managed to make out some words though, something along the lines of ‘she pushed me out of the way’. Race painfully looked away from her to look back at Spot. To Race’s horror, the drunk driver was shaking Spot as Race had previously done.

“S-stop! S-to’ shaking him!” Race called out to the guy. He must have sounded very menacing, because the guy dropped Spot’s shoulder and backed away from the car.

Race couldn’t hold it in any longer, he started to weep. He just realised how much he liked Spot and now they were bleeding out in a car. He was tempted to leave the car but decided against it for two reasons. One, his leg was pinned to the door by the broken glove compartment, so even if he tried to exit he couldn’t move. Two, he really didn’t want to leave Spot, especially if that driver started to shake him again. Race just let the tears fall from his eyes and cried so hard he didn’t even notice the emergency vehicles showing up. He finally awoke from his sorrowed state when he noticed Spot move next to him.

“Spo’?” Race said urgently.

Race’s spirits fell when he realised that the only reason he was moving was because the emergency medical team was removing him from the car.

“The other boy’s awake!” He heard one of them yell.

Almost immediately, there was an EMT on his side of the car, “Hey there young man, I’m Kathy and you’ve just been in a very bad accident. This young lady told me your name was Tony, is that your full name?”

“A-Antonio. Antonio Higgins” Race managed to whisper out.

Kathy scribbled something down on a clipboard, “Okay Antonio, I’m going to ask you a few questions. First, who’s your friend in the driver seat, what’s his full name?”

“Sean Collon.” 

Kathy nodded, “Okay Antonio, tell me where you hurt.”  
“M-my arm, t-the left one. And my r-right leg. My head hur’s too.”

“Okay, we think you may have a slight concussion, so you’re going to feel sleepy, don’t fall asleep on me okay Antonio?”

Race could only nod, his throat burned and his head throbbed.

“Antonio, can you get out of the car for me?” Kathy asked hopefully.

“No, my leg’ pinned.” Race whimpered.

“Okay Antonio, I’m going to get someone who’s gonna get you out of here okay? Just don’t fall asleep on me.” Kathy didn’t wait for a response, she turned to a firefighter to get the jaws of life. 

Race knew that the nice EMT told him not to fall asleep, but he was just so sleepy. As Kathy turned around to talk to him more, Race was already asleep.

* * *

 

Race woke up to the sight of fluorescent lights staring down at him and the sound of a steady heart monitor. Scratch that, two heart monitors. He realised that he must be sharing a room with another person. He slowly tried to turn his head to see who his roommate was, but the curtain was closed. He sighed before returning to his forward facing position. He let his eyes close to shield himself from the luminescent lights glaring down on him. It didn’t really work, the light still cut through his eyelids and split his skull. That was another thing, whatever hospital he was at did not give him enough pain killers. With every breath Race took, he felt sharp pain in his side. He attempted to move his left arm, but felt it was heavy with a cast. Race was half tempted to move his leg, but felt it would be useless as his right arm brushed against tight bandages against his leg. 

Though he wouldn’t admit it, he was still shaking over what happened. The shock of the whole thing finally wore off. He was in a car accident. A really bad car accident. A car accident with a probably drunk driver. Two people were probably dead, Race could have died. Probably the most scary thing though, was that Spot may be dead. 

Race really didn’t want to cry again, it was really damaging his image. He could forgive himself just one more time though, because he was still terrified. He let his sore body shake with sobs as he let his reality sink in. He just wish he could go home, or go back to the Manhattan rink. The grimy old rink where he could wait for Spot to come in though the creaky door. They could just talk for hours like they normally did. No, he was in this bright-ass hospital, waiting for someone to just come in and tell him what happened.

Race didn’t know how long he was waiting and sobbing in the room. It must have been a long time because it got to the point where he ran out of tears. Eventually, a tall man entered the room with a clipboard. He wore a clean white coat, the doctor.

“Hey there Antonio, good to see your awake. Do you know how long you’ve been up?” He asked.

Race just shrugged in response. It wasn’t a lie, he didn’t know how long he’d been up. But he didn’t want to admit he was probably up for a while cause he was sobbing.

The doctor nodded in response, “well Antonio. You probably know this, but you were in a really bad accident. So far, we’ve seen that you have a broken left arm. Your right leg was torn up pretty badly, but it’s not broken, just scraped up. Your torso was severely bruised, but again, nothing broken. You also got a concussion, but nothing too serious.” The doctor looked up at Race and smiled hopefully, “what I’m trying to say is that you are going to be a-okay in a couple months, and we’ll be able to release you by next week.”

Race couldn’t keep to himself any longer, “What, what about Spot?”

“Spot?” The doctor looked up at Race confused.

“Gah-I mean, Sean. Is Sean okay?” Race spat out.

The doctor smiled, “Pretty beat up. Your buddy got a pretty bad concussion, broke his leg and broke a few ribs.”

The doctor’s calm nature started to piss of Race. If he was so beat up why was he smiling? “Is he going to be alright?” Race urged.

The doctor moved to pull back the curtain separating Race and his neighbor, “ask him yourself.” He said simply.

The doctor pulled the curtain back to reveal Race’s roomate. To Race’s extreme delight, the boy laying a few feet away from him was, in fact Spot. Race pushed out a relieved breath to see Spot’s chest rising and falling steadily, as well as the steady beeping of his heart monitor.

“I’ll leave you two alone.” The doctor said solemnly.

As soon as the door clicked, Race went against his own good judgement and hopped out of his own bed to inch over to Spot’s bed. He kneeled next to Spot’s bed and stared at the sleeping boy in the soft cushions. Race couldn’t help but notice that Spot’s sleeping state was of the only time Spot was not wearing an instance look of concentration. Race sighed at the calm expression on Spot’s face, because he couldn’t deny that it was beautiful. Race’s feelings turned bittersweet, as he remembered why he had that unconscious expression. Car accident, right.

Race poked Spot in the face with his good finger, “Spot.” He whispered

The blonde received little response from the unconscious boy, so he tried again, “Spot.” He whispered more harshly.

That got a small groan out of Spot. Race smiled because his plan was working, also he was pleased to hear Spot’s groggy voice. To speed up his processes, Race decided to climb up onto Spot’s bed, carefully avoiding bumping either of their wounds. Once he was successfully looming over the unconscious body, he continuously poked Spot’s face.

“Spot,” He started, “Spot, come’ on ya gotta get up.”

That earned another groan from Spot, as well as a groggy, “Nah, mam, five more minutes.”

Race rolled his eyes, “I ain’t your ma Spot, and I gotta feeling you ain’t going to school anytime soon.”

Finally, Spot opened his dark, calculating eyes and stared at Race’s wintery blue eyes, “oh, no, you sure ain’t my ma.” Spot squinted his eyes and looked around the bright hospital room, “Oh, and this is sure a hospital.” He shook his head, “Oh, man my head hurts so much. That driver, he hit us?”

Race solemnly nodded his head, “Yeah, you got beat up pretty bad.”

“Boy can I feel it.” Spot said, gesturing to his leg. He laughed bitterly, “I-I’m so sorry Race.”

Race scanned Spot’s face in disbelief. For the first time since the night where Race discovered Spot’s spots, he saw raw sadness. Race was not used to seeing his friend like this, and he desperately wanted to make Spot feel better.

“Wait, Spot, why are you sorry?” Race soothed. He stopped leaning over Spot and sat next to him in his bed. 

“I should have done something t-to get out of the way or something, and you got hurt I’m so sorry.” Spot sobbed. 

Race stared at Spot with empathy. He reached out and wiped tears off of Spot’s freckled skin. He hated seeing Spot like this, and he just wanted to kiss away his fears.

_ Oh, _ Race thought,  _ that one is new. _ He immediately decided that this was not the time for hormones and started to try and soothe his friend.

“Spot, Spot. Listen to me.” Race commanded. Hesitantly, Spot’s eyes opened to look up at Race. Race took a shaky breath, “listen, it ain’t your fault that we got in that accident. You didn’t drive into that car, that car drove into us. So, you know what, this is not your fault. No matter how much you want to blame yourself, there was nothing you could have done. Okay? I ain’t mad at you, you understand? I don’t blame ya for nothing.”

Spot nodded meekly, “okay, I got it.”

“Good” Race launched himself at Spot on the bed in a big hug. The bear hug was a little winding on both Race’s bruised ribs and Spot’s busted up rib cage, but neither seemed to mind. The two stayed in each other’s embrace for a few moments before Race started to pull away. You know, self control and stuff. To Race’s surprise (and immense delight) Spot kept him from getting up. Race gave in to his wish and let himself become on Spot’s chest. He sighed contently and traced the freckles up and down Spot’s arm. He craned his neck to look up at Spot to see him gazing down at him as well.

“Are we going to be alright?” Race couldn’t help but ask.

Spot stared back at Race, “what do ya mean?”

“I mean,” Race started, “when we get outta the hospital, are you still gonna come around? Are we still gonna see each other?”

Spot chuckled slightly, before wincing at his ribs, “of course we is still gonna see each other, I don’t expect you’ll give up on me that easily. And there is no way I’m gonna let you get out of seeing me anytime soon,” he paused and sighed, “though, maybe we won’t be seeing each other that much, seeing as my car is probably totaled.”

Race’s mind flashed for a momentary horrific moment to Spot’s crushed driver side, the broken glove compartment, and the shattered windshield, “yeah, it-- it was pretty bad.”

Spot nodded, “that’s what I thought. So, I don’t think I’ll be driving around Manhattan anytime soon.”

“Oh.” Race couldn’t hide the disappointment in his voice much longer. This whole being in a devastating accident with Spot, almost losing Spot, then losing Spot again was starting to become tiring. Was it so wrong to just have this firecracker boy all to himself?

_ Oh boy, that’s also new. _ Race thought to himself.

“It’s super, I know.” Spot sighed, he was sounding extremely disappointed, “I don’t like it anymore than you do. I just wish--”

Spot cut himself off. Race tilted his head slightly.

“Wish you could what, Spot?” Race smiled.

“Nothing it’s stupid.” Spot said. Though he was probably trying to hide it, Race saw slight red tipping his ears and cheeks. Highlighting his freckles with a light pink tint.

“No, now you gotta tell me.” Race pushed.

“No, Race, you don’t wanna hear it.” Spot snapped back.

Somehow, Race felt that wasn’t true. He thought back to the first time they skated together and how Spot accepted his offer to give him a tour despite Spot’s instances he was annoying as hell. Then all those times Spot came back to the rink despite living across time, just because he ‘liked the company’. Then Jack’s advice:  _ just tell Spot how ya feel, you might just get a real boyfriend. _ Or just now when he insisted he stay curled up next to him without any words. 

“Maybe,” Race started, his voice a little shaky, “maybe, I  _ do _ wanna hear it.”

Spot looked at Race bewildered. For once Race’s eyes were not filled with the coky light, but they were instead openingly curious and hopeful. 

“I just wish that,” Spot smiled, “I just wish you knew how much I care about you.”

“I think I do.” Race admitted.

“No,” Spot laughed, but his voice was filled with water, “no, I don’t think you do.”

“If it’s anything like how I care about you, than I do.” Race sternly warned.

“Oh yeah? And how much do you--” 

Spot’s snarky comment was abruptly cut off by Race’s lips pressing against his. Race squeezed his eyes shut, a little out of inexperience (he’d only kissed one other person, a boy in the first grade, so he was a little out of practice) and a little out of fear that this was in fact, not what Spot wanted. He relaxed a little when he felt Spot’s firm hands tangle in his blonde curls. Spot, pushed his lips against Race’s happily, letting his fingers tangle in the sun-kissed curls like he had so long awaited to do. Race returned the favor by slipping his good hand around Spot’s neck, and pulling him closer. Spot, in return tugged a little on Race’s hair, sending shivers up Race’s spine. Unfortunately, Race got a little… carried away. Without thinking, he decided his left arm needed to get in on the action. He lifted it a little, remembered he was wearing a cast, then immediately dropped it again. Dropping it right on Spot’s hip. 

Spot pulled back, hissing in pain. Race immediately sat up, beyond flustered with himself.

“Oh my god Spot I’m so fuckin sorry, god are you alright I can believe that I just did that are you fine? Please say something?” Race rambled. He couldn’t help it, just a second ago he was kissing Spot Collon. 

Spot started to laugh, “I’m fine ya scamp. Now get back down here before I make ya.”

Race calmed down a little bit, and eventually laughed along with Spot.

“Oh, and what will ya do if I don’t?” Race suggested wiggling his eyebrows.

“You can just go back to your own bed.” Spot countered.

“Noooo” Race whined, “I’m going, I’m going.”

Carefully, Race wiggled next to Spot in the bed. Happily, he wrapped his good arm around Spot’s waist and grinned like a child.

“I really really like you Spot.” Race breathed.

“I gathered.” Spot joked.

“No! That’s not what you say, ya dolt!” Race gasped, with mock offence.

“Okay, okay. I really really like you too.” Spot smiled. “CanI be honest for a sec?”

Race nodded, “shoot.”

“I really liked you from the moment I walked into the rink. I saw you staring at me and thought ‘this kid is kinda weird, but he looks okay’. Then you came over to me and I could not believe my luck that you were skating over to me of all people. Then you just were okay with all of me and stuff, even though I was kinda an ass. You stuck it out for me, I guess you just kinda grew on me, ya know?”

Race nodded numbly, “Okay, my turn. I thought you was stunning when you walked into the rink. It took me a lifetime supply of courage to walk up to and talk to you. Everything from there was just me trying to get to know you, and everything was me trying to get you to be my friend. I didn’t plan that my friend would be so cool and handsome and pretty and nice. I didn’t really plan for me liking you.”

There was a small silence before Race spoke up again.

“So are we still on for the Brooklyn Rink later?” Race asked curiously.

Spot snorted, “my leg is still a little busted up here. Probably won’t be on skates for a while.”

“I ment after the fact you dolt,” Race smiled, “after your leg is all healed up, we are going to the Brooklyn rink, capiche?”

“Sure thing tramp.” Spot smiled.

The two layed in bed for a while before Spot spoke up.

“Just curious, did the Manhattan boys stop by while I was out?” He asked.

“No,” Race said slowly, “How much time do you think we have?”

They both looked up towards the door where a lot of noise suddenly came streaming through the hallway. The sounds of fifteen or so boys insisting that they were close family of the two boys in the hospital room.

“Not much it appears.” Spot admitted.

The door to their room busted open as the boys came spilling into the room. Jack was the first to enter and the first to speak. Or rather, the first to yell.

“Racetrack Higgins! I gave you ONE explicit instruction! Be CAREFUL! And what do you go and do? Ya land yourself in the hospital what is wrong with you?!”


End file.
